


See you around, Geralt.

by Sammiwayward



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Brothels, Everyone Is Gay, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jaskier | Dandelion is a Mess, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammiwayward/pseuds/Sammiwayward
Summary: Set after Jaskier and Geralt's fight on the mountain in episode 6.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 159





	See you around, Geralt.

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't stand how they left things with Jaskier and Geralt. Absolutely broke my heart. So here's a little make up fic to get us through.

"Damnit Jaskier!! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's YOU shoveling it?"

"That's not fair.."

"The child surprise. The djinn. All of it!! If life could give me ONE blessing it would be to take YOU off my hands."

".........right uh....right. I'll got get the rest of the story from the others.....see you around, Geralt."

Geralt replayed the scene in his head like he'd done a hundred times. The brokenness in Jaskier's voice. How when he finally thought better of it and turned around to take it back...Jaskier was gone.

It left a sour taste in his mouth and a knot in his stomach. It had been nearly a year, and he had spent every day filled with regret. 

He had gone back to hunting monsters for coin, staying at inns and taverns along the way. Alone. Except for the company of the occasional concubine. Just like he used to. Before Jaskier came and turned his world on its head. Half the time Jaskier was singing or blathering on he used to just wish for his old life back, some peace and quiet. But whenever the Bard had been in danger he would have given anything, even his life, to protect him. He never wanted to be needed by anyone. But then he'd gone and found himself needing the most unlikely person of all. 

Without his incessant talking and singing, Geralt was left to drown in his own thoughts again. Now somehow so much darker than before his days with Jaskier. 

At every town he stayed in, every pub and tavern, even travelers grouped around a fire along the road....he would look for him. He would ask about the famous Bard, Jaskier. His bard. No one could ever tell him anything. He couldn't believe Jaskier could just dissapear like that. He was always so loud, so boisterous, even his outfits were loud and colorful. Everywhere he went, his presence was known. He couldn't be missed. How could no one have seen him?

Then finally.....finally about a year after their fight on the mountain, a glimmer of hope.

He sat alone, drinking his ale, as usual, when he chanced a question on the barmaid.

"Can I get anything else for ya love?" She asked, warmly.

"I'm looking for a bard. He's quite famous, wondering if he's passed through. His name is Jaskier." 

"I do know of young man goes by Jaskier. Small fellow, big blue eyes, real charming with the ladies." She chuckled. "Just down the road."

Geralt's eyes snapped up, full of hope, a small smile pulled at his lips. He would give anything to see him again. 

"He ain't no Bard though, at least I never heard him sing. Works down at Madame Dusana's. You know....the brothel. One of the only lads that takes men as well as women. If that's something you're looking for, just tell Dusana I sent you over. Give you a good deal on him for the night."

Bile rose in the back of Geralt's throat. No. That couldn't be his Jaskier. Though the barmaids description fit him to a T. His stomach churned at the thought of his bard, selling himself every night. He should be boisterously singing, riling up tavern goers with his ballads, making girls go weak in the knees with a mere wink and getting into all kinds of harmless trouble.....but not.....not this.

He paid the barmaid and quickly left the pub. The closer he got to the brothel the angier he became. Seeing red, he barged in, demanding the owner. An older woman stood behind the counter, counting coin. 

"Madame Dusana, what can I do for you.?" 

"I need to speak with Jaskier. Now." He growled.

"Alright well he's just finishing up with a client and he's all yours. 2 marks for the night. 3 marks if you leave any visible bruises. He's my prettiest boy, but you lot keep roughing him up no one else is going to want him. Bad for business." She scowled, eyeing him warily.

Before she could finish that sentence Geralt slammed his fist into the countertop, silencing the woman. But she wasn't shaken.

"Now I'll have none of that in my brothel. You don't scare me...Witcher. Agree to the terms and pay up or you can see yourself out."

Geralt was seething. He slammed the coin down on the table and pushed passed her. "What room?" He called darkly.

"First on the left." She called back, pocketing the coin.

Geralt didn't bother to knock, he stormed into the room, eyes ablaze. First he saw another man, bigger than Jaskier but not as big as himself, pulling up his pants and looking in surprise at the intrusion.

"Oi! I was told I had a full hour with this one! You'll get your turn soon enough!"

He barely got the sentence out when Geralt's fist knocked him to the ground in a swift punch to the face. "OUT!" geralt roared. 

The man scrambled out the door, afraid for his life, and rightly so. 

Because then his eyes found him. Jaskier. His Jaskier. Standing by the bed, wearing a pair of pants but no shirt. It was then he saw the bruises and welts littering this body. Some new, many old, all over his arms, chest and sides...and a fresh black eye. Dark purple bruises were forming around his neck and throat. Geralt almost went after the other man just to stick his sword through his heart. He had never felt so angry in his entire life. 'Witchers don't feel.' Right.

"Hey Geralt." Jaskier said lightly. But there was an immense sadness in his eyes. 

Geralts stomach dropped, guilt overwhelming him. He had done this. His harsh words had done this. His eyes softened at the sight of his friend...beaten and bruised, selling himself to any takers, even if they abused him. He felt sick. 

"Jaskier....." His voice was hoarse. Making it even deeper and more gravely than usual. He tried to clear his throat. "Jaskier.." he tried again. "What....what happened?"

"Well I'm sure I don't know what you mean Geralt." He said, feigning innocence.

"What are you doing?" He asked simply. His voice drenched in concern...and regret.

"Just doing my job." He replied somberly.

"Your job." Geralt repeated incredulously. "Your job is to write tales and ballads and sing and and...."he shook his head "fuck, Jaskier, this isn't you."

"It is now." Jaskier tried to hold his head high. His voice unwavering.

"No Jaskier..... We're leaving."

"I'm sorry, "we"? No, there is no we, Geralt. You made that pretty damn clear back on that mountain" he all but whispered.

Geralt shook his head, the unwelcome memory back for the thousandth replay in his head. 

"Please Jaskier.....please leave this place. Come with me." Geralt pleaded desperately. 

"Why should I?...... It's what I do isn't it?.....fuck everyone I meet? May as well get a bit of coin for it." He spat bitterly. "Want to have a go? Hope you paid your 3 marks." He shook his head and began pulling his shirt back on, hiding all the bruises. He was done with Geralt looking at him that way. With pity, and disgust. 

Geralt was dumbstruck. He supposed he deserved tbat. He knew he didn't have a right to barge in after everything he's said, and tell Jaskier how to live. But he couldn't bare this. 

He advanced on Jaskier, working up the courage to say what he needed to say. 

"Jaskier I'm sorry!" It came out much louder than intended, bringing Jaskier's attention back to the Witcher. 

"...I'm...I'm so sorry." He said, much softer. "Those things I said....I regretted them the instant they left me. I tried to look for you....I've been looking for you for a fucking year!" The desperation in his voice took even him by surprise. He had barely spoken in a year and now it was all coming out.

Jaskier's resolute expression softened, looking at the ground then back up and Geralt. His eyes glossy. Fucking hell if he was going to cry in front of Geralt after not seeing him for a year. 

Geralt closed the distance between them, stopping just inches from Jaskier's face. Jaskier sucked in a breath. Geralts scent reaching him, his eyes closed for a split second taking it in. God he had missed him. 

"Jaskier....." He whispered. "Please.....forgive me. Please let me take you away from here." His hand tentatively ran down Jaskier's arm, stopping at his hand, waiting....

Jaskier's breath caught in his throat, and one of the tears threatening his eyes betrayed him, rolling down his cheek. He grasped onto Geralt's hand for dear life. All he had ever wanted, since meeting the Witcher in that tavern long ago, was this.

Geralt breathed out in relief, bending his forehead down to touch Jaskier's. And for a moment he just breathed him in. He chastised himself for taking him for granted for so long and he promised himself right there that he would never let Jaskier leave his side again.

He let his hand trail back up Jaskier's arm and to the side of his face, cupping it gently and turning Jaskier's face up to look into his eyes. 

Geralt leaned down and so slowly planted the softest kiss on the Bards cheek, right over the newest bruise. 

A fresh tear slid out of Jaskier's eye and Geralt kissed that too. 

Geralt couldn't even really believe what was happening but it felt right and he had no intention of stopping it. He slowly brought his mouth to Jaskier's lips, drinking them in, they were so soft. Jaskier returned the kiss fervently, tasting Geralt's tongue, exploring his mouth with his own. It was more perfect than he could have imagined. And he had imagined it so many times. When they broke apart merely to catch their breath, Geralts own eyes were shining and his smile had Jaskier absolutely weak. 

Resting his forehead on Jaskier's again he tried to catch his breath and asked "can I please get you out of this place now?" 

Jaskier simply smiled in answer, beaming, gathering his clothes and putting his boots on.

"Where's your lute?" Geralt asked, looking around the room 

"Sold it." Jaskier replied. 

"Well let's go get it back. You're going to write me a song about this." 

Jaskier laughed and they made there way out of the brothel, out of that town. Never to go back.


End file.
